The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

fun without her.’
    ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,’ Beata consoled him as she came up behind them and took his arm. ‘Come on.’
    They headed for the chartered buses that were taking everyone to Kuten. There a light dinner would be served, followed by dancing to the Bo Kasper band.
    They were all thirsty and eager to talk after the long film. Sam immediately started waxing poetic about the editing techniques, the acting, the script and the lighting. He talked about the parallels between the film and Bergman’s own life, and about how the film ought to be interpreted.
    John and Håkan exchanged glances and drank a toast. Sam wore themout with his long monologues about Bergman. Håkan looked worried and picked up his mobile. No answer from Stina. She was probably fully occupied on board the plane, so they wouldn’t be able to talk until the next day.
    Beata was the only one at the table who showed any interest in what Sam was saying.
    ‘But there’s one thing that fascinates me about Bergman,’ she managed to say when Sam paused to catch his breath. ‘He was so damned insightful when it came to women, their feelings and reactions. Take for example
A Lesson in Love
. I think it must be from sometime in the fifties, but there are lines of dialogue that could just as well have been spoken today – half a century later.’
    ‘Like what?’ Sam was looking at her with interest.
    ‘Well, like when she talks about her view of women’s sexuality.’
    ‘Really? What does she say?’
    ‘That guys are allowed to have as many lovers as they like, while a woman who amuses herself sexually is considered a slut. It’s the same thing today.’
    ‘Is that really true? I don’t know whether I agree.’
    ‘No? As soon as women indulge in purely sexual desires, it leads to enormous problems for men. They just can’t handle it. They feel lost and frustrated; they lose confidence in themselves and their masculine identity. They can’t deal with being challenged in that way. It’s true that men may be attracted to sexually liberated women, but in their hearts they would prefer us to be unsullied madonnas. At least the women that they choose for themselves. No matter how much they may pretend otherwise,’ she went on, giving John a sharp look. ‘It’s OK for others to have loose morals, but a man’s own woman has to control herself, and be content with only him, the man who chose her to be his mate. And that’s regardless of how dissatisfying their sex life might be for her. The man may dream about sexual games, but when it comes right down to it, he can’t handle that.’
    Sam gave her an inscrutable look.
    ‘It sounds like you speak from experience.’
    ‘You think so?’ She gave a little laugh.

THE SUN HAD long since disappeared into the sea, and twilight had settled over the remote property in Hammars. It never got truly dark at this time of year. The sea was roaring, and the wind had picked up. Several nocturnal terns shrieked over the waves, finding no peace. The wind whistled angrily around the corners of the house, rattling the roof tiles. Little birds and rabbits sought refuge among the tufts of grass, and the cattle grazing outside headed for the groves of trees where they would find some shelter from the wind.
    Suddenly a solitary figure emerged from the shadows and approached the building, seeming to have a definite goal and clearly aware of which way to go. The person didn’t climb over the stone wall that surrounded the house but instead went through the gate a short distance away. Moved quickly and deliberately across the grounds, up on to the veranda.
    At first glance an outsider might have thought it was the owner of the property who had come home but had forgotten the key, so had to search for the extra key in one of the pots standing on the veranda.
    The dark-clad figure was looking for something, fumbling over the wooden benches, the rough stone table and the surrounding area. Crawling, touching the ground, but apparently not finding what was missing. Then continuing down towards the sea, struggling against the wind that was now tearing at the crowns of the trees as the waves pounded the stony shore. Going through the dilapidated fence and over to the upside-down rowing boat at the water’s edge, which was rocking back and forth in an alarming way in the wind.
    Then the heavy work began, and it went on for a long time.
    The sea grew increasingly angry in the howling